Recovering From The Loss of My Daddy

[Dolphinsinger]

I wrote this last year while having a difficult time with Father's day.

June 13, 2007 - Wednesday

I remember going to Easter Sunday mass with my father when I was sixteen. Having been raised in the Methodist church & knowing nothing about the Episcopal church, I was unfamiliar with the songs and the ritual of the service. I sang along, however, & enjoyed being alone with my daddy. At one point, I realized Daddy had stopped singing & was watching me. I looked up at him & saw this tremendous pride in his eyes. He looked at me and whispered, "Don't stop singing." On the way home, Daddy stopped the car at a park & took my hands in his. I can even remember the love in his voice when he said, "I knew you were a singer, but I never knew your voice was so lovely. Promise me that you will sing at my funeral." Being so young, I didn't realize the magnitude of the promise I was making. Make it I did, however, & then we went on to enjoy the rest of the day.

Twenty-two short years later, I found myself sleeping beside his hospital bed, one eye on the monitor, one closed & my hand resting gently on his abdomen so I could feel him if he awoke. Evidently, I had fallen into a deeper sleep than I realized because I awoke to find that he had moved to the edge of his bed & was watching me sleep. I awoke with a start & was about to ask him if he needed anything, when I heard him take a breath to speak. He smiled at me & asked, "How's my sweet girl? Are you warm enough? Hungry? Are you comfortable in that chair, Sweetheart?" He fought for each breath he drew & wanted to know if I was okay! That's how he was. No matter what ailed him, his first concern was always his family.

He had this way of making me feel as though I was the only person who could light up his world just by the way he greeted me each time we saw each other. He would always light up & smile when his eyes found mine. He would open his arms and say, "How's my sweet girl?" And he taught me how to be a lady by always being a gentleman with me. He was my safe harbor in any storm.

This is why it was my distinct honor & privelage to be holding his hand when he left this life & walked into the arms of God. When I told him of his diagnosis (the hardest thing I've ever done), he looked at me and said, "With your help, I'm going to fight this cancer." "And I will fight for you if you are too weak to handle the battle yourself. I'll be right there with you every step of the way," was my reply. And I did. I would not have wanted to be anywhere else.

The day he died, I remember leaving the hospital & looking up at the sky. There was something missing. Something I couldn't put my finger on. That was four years ago. It's still missing. What is left, however, is his spirit. It lives on in me. So do my lovely memories of him.

He was a beautiful, courageous man who served on the lead ship in the flotilla during the Cuban Missile Crisis. A Navy Corpsman. He had the most wonderful bedside manner; I never saw him work on a patient he couldn't make smile. I learned so much from him about using humor to heal & about standing up for what I believe in. And his capacity to love…he was amazing!

I kept my promise. Although I could barley breathe, on the day of his funeral, I sang "Amazing Grace". I could feel him there, watching me with so much love & pride. But, it didn't even compare to the pride I carry in my heart each time I think of him.

When I got home, that night, I sat down with pen & paper & wrote of my feelings about the day. Someone at the non-Hodgkin's lymphoma society saw it & put it up as a tribute to his life.

As you read it, I pray that you remember your father. Never take any moment of any day for granted. I only had 38 years with him, but I look forward to seeing him again, his arms open wide, saying, "How's my sweet girl?" That will truly be a most beautiful day, indeed, for my Daddy was The Best Father In The World!

by Juliann